“You weren’t gonna tell me?” she asks, arms crossed, leaning against a steel support beam.
I grunt. “Didn’t want you here.”
“Tough.”
She steps forward, eyes hard. Her jaw’s set the way it gets when she’s already decided to ignore me.
“You think I can’t handle myself?”
I scan the rigging over her shoulder. “I think I’d rather die than see you take a hit that was meant for me.”
She breathes out, sharp. “Then stop trying to do this alone.”
The silence between us crackles, heavy as storm tension. I hate how right she is. I hate that she knows it.
Lazarus blinks into view on the embedded wall-screen, that usual half-smirk dialed back for once.
“Intel’s solid,” he says. “Tugun's crew will ping the decoy signal. Once the data exchange happens, they’ll make a grab.”
I nod. “We intercept, extract, and flip the op.”
“And if they don’t come alone?”
I tap the pulse trigger at my hip. “They won’t leave breathing.”
Sable shoots me a look.
“What?” I mutter.
“You’re very reassuring,” she deadpans.
Lazarus cuts in. “Alliance will monitor all frequencies. But we're hands-off unless the roof caves in.”
“That’s a mistake,” I growl.
“Politics,” Lazarus shrugs. “They still don’t want war. Not yet.”
“I’m not asking for war,” I say. “I’m asking for backup.”
Sable steps in. “We have backup. Each other.”
Lazarus nods. “She’s more than a witness now, Voltar. She’s your partner.”
My jaw clenches.
That word. Partner.
It fits her too damn well.
“Fine,” I bite out.
But inside, I'm twisted up. Not from fear. From something worse—wanting to keep someone whole in a world built to shatter.
She joins me at the control terminal, brushing my hand as she links in her compad. “You okay?”
I don’t answer.
Because no. I’m not.
